


Kingdoms of Corrain

by rgc0987



Series: Kingdoms of Corrain [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Armor, Birds, Dwarf, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Dwarf/Human Relationship(s), Dwarves, Elves, Environment, Environmentalism, Fae & Fairies, Fairies, Fantasy, Giants, Gnomes, HEX - Freeform, Half-Elves, High Fantasy, Horses, Human, Magic, Mother Nature - Freeform, Narniaish, Nature, Nature Magic, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Nymphs & Dryads, Ogres, Orc Attack, Orcs, Runes, Shaman - Freeform, Spells & Enchantments, Swordplay, Swords & Sorcery, Talking Animals, Talking Trees, Trees, Weapons, Wizards, barbarians - Freeform, blunt force trauma, enchanted weapons, heros, minimal description of orc blood, tolkienish - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 17:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20492867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rgc0987/pseuds/rgc0987
Summary: Magic and misadventure are all part of the Kingdoms of Corrain.  But, the Orcs and their allies have decided it is time they do some more bullying and pick on the small, isolated wild west fairy Kingdoms of Corrain.  Except that Roland and his friends get in the way.  Can they unite the many different factions of: Barbarians, Elves, Dwarves, Nymphs, Fairies, Gnomes, Giants and a plethora of other mythical creatures;  Will the fate of the Kingdom and magic be to survive or to burn?





	Kingdoms of Corrain

Chapter one: The saga begins!!!

What lay ahead was darkness, a sheet of what most would think of as a black hole, without all the crushing problems of gravity. Vidorma roughly spurred his horse forward. The animal was hesitant because he was smart enough to be wary of something that seemed to be sucking in all the light, yet was glowing like an old television with a black screen. The whole cave the small band of orcs was hiking into was lit up by the eerie aura being diffused from the back wall which was made up of the blackness.

The band's shaman was already at the massive dark doorway, staff in hand which was channeling dark magic onto a space just big enough so that Vidorma would be able to ride his horse through. The shaman was deep in concentration. Which was fine by Vidorma; the fewer words exchanged with a magic wielder was always for the best. 

Suddenly the whole wall flashed a light blue and then back to black except for where the Shaman's magic had been projected. Five of the more capable warriors from the band’s elite guard passed through the doorway, single file, brandishing their short spears and throwing axes in case there was any threat waiting for them on the other side. Finally, Vidorma nudged his skittish horse to walk through.

It was daylight on the other side. Vidorma was just about to race off when the Shaman's raspy voice came through the doorway in the annoying and disturbingly high pitched common tongue of the Fay. “Remember, only kill what you can eat, and don’t torture it before you kill it to make it taste better.” Then the voice seemed to cut off as the doorway crashed to a close.

Vidorma turned his horse to the nearest stand of trees and kicked his horse to a trot, not wanting to stay in the open area around the large portal wall any more than he had to. The five orcs on foot, even though weighed down with armor, easily kept pace behind the rider.

\------

Gwess lumbered through the trees trying not to step on anything she was not supposed to. Unless she thought she could eat it, whatever 'it' the object happened to be was usually not supposed to be stepped on. It was hard when your body was the size of a small elephant and feet twice as long as seemed normal. Giants had big feet and so did Ogres, so Gwess figured since she was both that it was normal to have really, really big feet. 

The aromatic smell of freshly cooked acorns brought her thoughts back onto what she was doing and usually doing, looking for food. Her mind had a tendency to wander. Most people thought that ogres were not very bright, but that is only because they are always following thoughts where thoughts will themselves to go. Just like thinking led her to think about thoughts she thought. 

Another wonderful smell snapped her back to her work of filling her tummy which was a full-time job with as much stomach as someone the size of a young oak tree would have. It was a cherry and rosehip jubilee fresh from the oven that she smelt. Gwess may not have been the sharpest sword in the twelve kingdoms of Corrain, but she would wager she had one of the sharpest senses of smell!

She could detect with her smell that there was a pine log cabin where someone had just taken more food out of the oven. The cabin was about half a mile away. Someone had just taken out two more pies and was letting them cool really close to an open window! Gwess was naturally very excited.

Gwess could be very quiet when she needed to be. She must get that trait through the giant side of her family, she thought because ogres have a tendency to crash through everything. While giants, you never hear giants walking through the forest do you? 

Concentration was needed when stealing pies. Gwess made sure her shadow was falling behind her so as not to announce her presence. The window where her objectives lay was at the very front of the tiny log cabin. The logs of the cabin were not cut but actually were branched off of the main trunk of trees that had interwoven themselves to make up walls and the pine needle boughs made up the roof.

Gwess could hear nothing of the inhabitants of the house even with her large ears. She stole up to the window and gingerly picked up both pies that were resting on the window seal with one gnarled hand. But, where was the jubilee she wondered? Since no one was around, Gwess dared peek deeper into the house's open window. She spotted the flambe sitting on the table right where she had smelled it would be. It was within easy reach of her long arms.

“Put those down!” commanded a motherly voice. Gwess recoiled her arm from the window quickly from both the surprise of someone's presence but also the sharp sting of being smacked on the finger by a wooden ladle. She instantly put the pies back on the window sill, so quickly that they both almost waddled themselves onto the ground before settling out of their clanking spin to end in that unique sound of whirring and a whumping sound only metal round things make at the end of a flat spin.

“How dare you!” said the angry, very tiny, very old woman as she seemed to appear out of thin air, standing on the window sill, straddling one of the pies. “Those pies are for the ones who worked hard to bring in the ingredients!” The usually kind-faced woman looked even sterner because her crows' feet caused her glaring eyes to seem more like slits across the whole middle of her face.

Gwess did not know what to do. Most weapons that were brandished against her were sharp, or at least pointy. The uniqueness of the defender of the fruit pies and her choice of weapons caused Gwess to pause instead of running off like she would normally have done. 

Like always, Gwess' thoughts wandered on without her. “I,” pausing in her guttural speech pattern, “bring fewd” she asked very slowly. And pointed to the angered woman in the window indicating bringing ingredients to her. 

“Well then, that would be lovely, dear.” The old women said instantly changing her scowl into a beaming smile that would make most people think of sunshine. “We would probably mix it up with some of the other vitals brought in by others and make something tasty to share.”

“You know, there are some apples that are way too high for anyone to reach on the tree just down by the stream over there,” the woman paused as she indicated, with a much less menacing ladle, the direction in which a trail was headed away from the house. “They would go wonderful with the roasted acorns the squirilies brought in.” She said with a strong voice that somehow still seemed to float softly like a light breeze drifting through the trees.

And this is where the friendship of a very prolific baker and a very eager and able gatherer started. Gwess would go out and fetch food that was either too hard to reach or too heavy to be carried back by the creatures of the forest to Mother; which was the name all the animals respectfully called the elderly woman, who would bake feasts for all contributors to share in. Even a few of the wood elves would occasionally drop by with goods and join in the fare. The Elves were really respectful to her and were almost reverent in their manner. They called Mother by the name Terra; Gwess would just keep calling her Mother as long as Terra let her.

Gwess always got excited when Roland showed up. He and Mother were two of the few people who were able to talk to her in the closest thing she came to a conversational manner. He had the gift with languages that only vary rarely showed up in anyone but the Elves and even that was few and far between.

Roland always would have work to do with the closest villages that she could help with and earn lots of food. He would recruit her to help with heavy lifting, like raising timbers for buildings. She really enjoyed digging projects. She could work at that and not have to concentrate so she could let her mind really wander and still be earning food! Luckily Roland was there to stop her from digging too much, as was the case when Gwess did not stop when she was supposed to and almost dug the irrigation ditch right up to the edge of town and the stable.

One evening while Roland was enjoying the hospitality at the little cabin in the woods, two serious-looking Elves carrying bows and swords, riding atop even more serious-looking horses stopped by. Gwess sat at the open back door and listened and watched, but could not follow the conversation because they all spoke in high elvish. Though Mother spoke little and Roland spoke even less.

After the elves rode off without even having anything to eat, which was really confusing to Gwess, Mother and Roland stayed seated around the kitchen table and explained to Gwess what the news was that the Elves had revealed. 

“It seems that someone came out of the gate portal in the low lands in the west and then somehow made it through the gate portal barrier in the south.” Mother explained. Gwess had wandered down there by the gate before she had found a home with Mother, and knew that no one used it. The portal led to the land that all the twelve kingdoms were anchored to. “Why anyone would want to go out where there might be humans, probably is not a good sign. The Elves are worried because whoever it was had to have strong magic to open a passage through the portal gates without the Elves lowering the barrier.”

“The Elves said they tracked two creatures that were disguising their tracks with what looked like snowshoe tracks,” Roland said sounding a little baffled, “And they were in a hurry, didn't even stop by any of the people living here in Corrain, so the Elves have no connections to get clues to go off of.”

Gwess knew that Corrain was a rough and tumble border outpost of loosely allied kingdoms. It was one of the last places the Fairylands had any connection to the Human realm called Earth. Corrain was anchored there by an ancient magic to a beautiful spread of forest land that provided the magic to hold Corrain together in the space between Earth and the ancestral homelands of the Faye realms. 

Not knowing much about the lands outside of Corrain, Gwess asked Mother and Roland why the elves were so concerned about someone passing through the kingdoms, especially if they had not even stopped?

“Most people think that the Kingdoms of Corrain are some other dimension from Earth and the Faye realms. They are not, they could be traversed without any hindrance if it was not for the barriers.” Mother paused to pour more tea into Roland's and her own cup and dump the rest of the pot into Gwess's. “What makes the elves nervous is that the land in the Earth realm has a different kind of magic that cradles the lands of Corrain.” Mother paused to think of the right way to phrase how the complex situation of 'place' could be explained easily. “The easiest way to understand is to think of the forest land outside the southern portal wall as pillars supporting the magic that makes up Corrain. While the ecosystem of the forest helps support the Humans by being the lungs for the earth to breath and sources of water for their survival.”

“I do not even know-how, but Corrain is actually contained within the forest that lays outside the Southern portal.” Both Roland and Gwess had been brought up in a magical land so they were used to things not always making sense, so they took that in stride. But both were concerned that Mother had said she did not know. She always just seemed to know everything. 

“The elves are more into studying about the how's and why's of things than I ever have been.” Mother tilted her head like she was looking at a memory from the past. “My ancestors are very temperamental and we do have a very powerful magic, but very little control over it.” She looked into her cup and then continued, “I believe the elves are right to be concerned, if something happens to the Anchor forest, the magic would fade from Corrain.”

Roland cleared his throat and seemed reticent to pick up where Mother had stopped. “I have heard that if the trees are gone, both Earth and Corrain loses what sustains them.”  
“Yes, I believe that is why my people influenced their magic to create Corrain as a connection between the two realms, to be a safety, in the case that there needed to be a disconnection.” Mother did seem to know more than she had previously shown. “Corrain is the linking pin in the middle.” 

It made as much sense as Roland and Gwess needed. “The only thing that worries me is that no one knows what will happen to Corrian if we lose the magic, but there will be very bad repercussions spreading both into the Fairy mainlands and Earth.” Mother concluded.

“Well enough of the doom and gloom, especially over what is probably some mad wizard roaming here or there up to who knows what kind of nonsense.” She stood up from her chair at the table. “Roland you said you were leaving tomorrow to meet with Karter?” He nodded his head in confirmation. “That Elf should come with you to visit, but I think he is afraid he will have to do some real work if he did.” Mother looked toward the hooks near the wall where clothing was hanging “Well anyhow, we should mend that hole in your cloak because it is going to rain tomorrow. And then we can all get a good nights sleep!”

\-------------

Several days later, Karter glided, skipped and even pranced around the campfire. He even, annoyingly, made a trip up Roland. Karter used Roland's forearm, shoulder and then the top of his head as steps, as the tiny storyteller pantomimed the valiant hero of the story he was practicing, climbing a staircase up to do battle with some hairy horned demon or some killer goat cheese waffle muncher, Roland really did not care. 

Roland was overly exhausted from being the real hero that day; since Karter had managed to get himself band from the local town's one inn where the two were to meet back up and Karter could perform Roland's latest tale to “sing for their supper” and a have a roof to sleep under. Instead, Roland had to help a family of nymphs remove rocks from their field so they could plant some trees to live in. Roland had been rewarded with a magically conjured stew, bread, and even some delicious crumble cake. The whole meal tasted delightful if you could get around the fact that all the dishes had a slight hint of hickory to them. With magically conjured food you had to expect some uniqueness to the taste.  
Roland wished he had a magic sleeping potion to use on Karter to make him be almost quiet enough so Roland could sleep. It was quiet though. Karter's mock fencing duel with an imaginary character must have led him into the woods and now he was probably lost, wandering in circles, pretending he was not.

Roland started to grudgingly lug his stocky, six-foot frame up from his bedroll by the fire to go find Karter when the Elf came back into the ring of firelight, his three-foot body literally flying several feet off the ground. He was watching over his shoulder and crashed straight into Roland. The pair tumbled backward in a heap. Karter was up in an instant and was pulling on Roland's arm, trying to drag him. 

Finally Karter threw down the hand he had been tugging on to no avail and jumped on Roland's chest and exclaimed loudly in his face, “Don't just lay there! There is a blood-crazed giant chasing you, I mean us!”

Roland sat up and saw a familiar shadow blocking out the starlight just above the treetops coming closer. “She's not going to hurt you, calm down Karter!” 

“Then why was she saying she was going to murder me?” Karter yelled as he tightened his grip on the front of Roland's tunic. 

“Her name is Gwess and she was probably saying Mother, not murder you.” Roland asserted as he peeled Karter off his chest.

“Mutter? Why would a mad giant be stalking me while muttering the word mutter?” Karter questioned, again misunderstanding what was said.

Gwess came into the firelight and Roland could just make out her face in the flickering darkness up so high. “Mother,” Roland stated breathlessly.  
Tears were rolling down Gwess' face and she sobbed the word that came out in her speech as “Muthder”

“Mother!” Roland stated again. He turned to Karter. “something has happened to Terra!”

Chapterish 2  
It took a few minutes for Roland to calm Gwess down enough so even he could understand her. Gwess had returned to Mother's cabin to find it completely disrupted. Gwess was distressed knowing Mother had been involved for there had been quite the struggle indicated by dark green blood splattered all over the wall and Mother's favorite skillet was broken in two where she must have hit someone with it.

Karter and Roland looked at each other, silently asking each other the same question: 'green blood?' through their years of experience had been short, they both knew of creatures with yellow, red, blue, pink, and many other colors of blood among the inhabitants of Corrain; blood came with the territory when you spent much of your time earning your keep in taverns, but never dark green blood. They knew of some with glowing blood, even sparkling green blood, but never dark green. 

Gwess kept starting to get worked back up to incoherence and looking around as if she were about to bolt off in an instant. She was very distressed that she could not find Mother's trail with her sense of smell; Gwess knew that something was blocking the scent. Roland asked Gwess to start from the beginning, hoping to piece it together. “It will make it so we can find Mother if you tell all that you can remember,” Roland said calmly and seriously; a tone to his voice that usually only belonged to someone who had experienced a lot in life, usually a lot of bad things that they had dealt with. 

Roland's confidence brought Gwess enough calmness to concentrate to make her tale coherent. Gwess skipped over talking about breakfast and lunch, important affairs mind you, just not to this dire matter. She had been collecting cattails by the river from spots that most could not reach when she heard a horse in distress. There was a mudflat, three bends in the river down from where she was, she explained. By the time she arrived, the charcoal-colored horse had broken a leg and was almost exhausted from trying to fight out of the mud.  
Being strangely fascinated with horses, Gwess had interacted with horses every chance she had been given. She knew that her smell could drive them almost mad, so she quickly ducked downwind and rolled in the mud, covered herself from head to toe. She made herself as small as she could crawling out to the horse and gingerly pulled the horse onto her cloak she had pitched out. 

After sliding the now lethargic horse to the bank, Gwess said she had carried the horseback to Mother's to care for the heavily muscled stallion.  
Karter, despite how serious the situation, was managing a smile at the thought of Gwess, covered in mud while carrying a horse clutched gently in her arms, looking like a toddler carrying a puppy.

Gwess explained that she had laid her precious cargo on a pile of corn stalks from local villager's fields that she had been collecting for the deer and elk to munch on during the long winter. She had hurried to the cabin and thought nothing of the door being wide open as it usually was in a welcoming manner. Even the door being slightly hung askew was not noticed. 

It was the stench of orcs that brought Gwess out of her panic about the horse's situation. She knew the Orcs were not still there, but neither was Mother. The trail of both Mother's and the orc's smell went south down the path toward the creek, and then suddenly disappeared; it had been washed over by a magic covering spell. Orcs knew Ogres and how to hide their trails from them.

Gwess had the piece of mind to reach into the house to fetch out several blankets. While doing this she had noticed the broken skillet and the blood. After depositing the blankets around the horse to keep him warm, Gwess had taken to the trail in the direction the (Roland could not make out what the next few words exactly where that Gwess used to describe the orcs, but they were not nice) four or five orcs had taken Mother.

That was at midday. She had been charging straight through the woods, trying to find the (once again, those special words that even when not translatable have their meanings understood) abductors trail, hoping that their magic covering spell had run its course and she would be able to pick it up where it had. Then she had stumbled across Roland and Karter.

Roland and Karter sat in stunned silence. They had been in their fair share of street fights as they traveled around, had heard of clashes between different kingdoms with the occasional internal strife. They had always trained for the worst, especially since Corrain was still very much the wild west. But abducting someone was unheard of, there was a sense of honor about combat that seemed to be ingrained in the peoples of Corrain that did not leave room for what seemed like a cowardly act of kidnapping. Terra was capable and mature enough to be almost anyone's elder who had more than earned the right of other's respect. She should be quite safe in Corrain. 

Orcs though. Those were old enemies of the Fairy Kingdoms, the orcs, sworn by their own tongues and blood oaths. As well as mostly all of them being homicidal maniacs who just had a thirst for killing. In the realms where magic held sway, there were certainties; Take Leprechauns, for example, they are always going to try to trick you, they just have to. And, unfortunately, orcs are going to try to do bad things.

Roland was the one who had to act. Gwess had obviously had put in a mammoth effort. Roland and Karter have camped anywhere from fifty to sixty miles from Mother's cabin and Gwess, covering that distance since midday, must be completely taxed. He did have her throw a fallen log on the fire and had Karter race back and forth to have the wind whip up the fire to create a bonfire big enough to warm Gwess. She was asleep before her head touched the ground. 

“Can you guard her, Karter?” Roland asked his friend. Karter picked up a branch that was alight at one end and nodded sternly. Karter's size compared to Gwess made him look like he was standing sentry in front of a hill that was breathing. The firelight reflected off of his bright eyes as he tried to scan every at once.

Roland sprinted into the trees, his earlier fatigue forgotten. He wanted to try something he had been wondering about for a while. How far did his gifts of communication go? He had never talked with a non-humanoid being. He had heard whispers from the trees and knew that there was some connection, between Terra and the animals who visited her, that went beyond pantomime and pointing to examples.

Exchanging information is usually more than just audio. When Roland understood others who spoke tongues he had never heard before he felt more open to that person. To get what was needed, Roland relaxed and let all of his surroundings seep into him. Unfortunately, all he heard was silence. He tried harder to hear if there was any voice in the forest. 

Nothing.

That was it, there was nothing. Perhaps Gwess's traveling through must have frightened all the animals to ground. Roland spoke out how it came most naturally to him, letting out meanings and feelings like he was connecting with the forest. Nothing.

The only thing Roland could think to do was go to the nearest village and hope the Elven wardens would be able to help find Mother. Not knowing which direction she had been taken or even why anyone would want to do harm to her made Roland's insides boil with frustration. He knew anger was not going to accomplish anything so he balled as much of it up as he could and let go, purging himself of the negative.

Roland started back to the fire. He had not moved more than five steps when a beautifully colored, with reds and greens in its plumage, pheasant buzzed by close to his head, then another, and then another.

Roland could hear crisp short words inside his head like his brain was being tickled with the tip of a feather as the first bird passed, 'Why',

“You,” from the second.

“Shouting?” from the third. The trio of Aves strung their words together to make a sentence. 

The birds circled and were heading back Roland's way. Something else was on top of the words of the message. 'Danger'. Roland let out his thoughts to his surroundings, this time without as much emotion, 'Yes, danger, Mother's in danger. You must know of her. The birds started to swoop down to buzz by Roland's head when they veered off suddenly with a streak of brown and white feathers in close pursuit. 

The hawk who had dropped from the sky like a lightning bolt, mockingly sent out 'too slow!' as he shot past Roland's head.  
With his senses reeling, Roland stumbled back to the bonfire. He managed to get to his bedroll before collapsing. His head swimming with all sorts of new sensations.  
Karter was still standing sentry, having gained the high ground advantage by standing on Gwess' hip as she lay on her side still asleep. “Great, now I have to guard you too?” He asked Roland's prone form.

Roland did not get long to sort out the new weighted thoughts that were swimming around in his brain. A magpie landed on Roland's shoulder and when he did not give an immediate response, the bird pecked Roland savagely on the ear. The pain and his own blood being spilled onto his face startled the young man to be fully awake.  
Gwess had opened her eyes at hearing the magpie's arrival. Hers and Karter watched in silence as Roland stared at the bird for what seemed like an eternity. What was actually only a minute, the bird flew off and Roland quickly leaped to his feet and started putting out what was left of the burning log. 

“I know which way they took Terra.” Roland explained. “The bird told me, the animals have all been in a flutter over Mother being taken by the Orcs.”  
Gwess started in one way and almost turned inside out trying to go in the opposite direction suddenly. She looked at Roland and started to row her open hands towards her chest in a sign telling him to explain. 

“Make sure that fire is completely extinguished, please. The last thing we need is to burn the whole forest down.” He told Gwess and then started pulling out what little food he had in his pack. Karter went to his pack and dumped out the contents and started to select items. Roland slung his canvas-covered canteen over his head and shoulder, stuck his utility and camp knife into his belt, and tied the two ends of the rope he had to the large jug of water he carried in the pack. Once the knots were secure, he threw the jug to Gwess and indicated she should sling it over her shoulder the way he carried his canteen. 

Gwess had never been angry with Roland, but the rearranging of his gear instead of telling where the Orcs had Mother was starting to try her patience. “I'll tell you where she is after you eat, I know that you'll just run off without eating something if I tell you first.” Roland and Karter were both wolfing down bites and slid the lion's share towards Gwess. She scooped up the nutrients, put them her mouth and swallowed them whole. There was a reason she was drawn to horses; Gwess's ogre ancestors liked horses for a whole other reason than she did, they were known to swallow half a horse at a time.

Leaving everything that was nonessential to their mission, the three-headed in a northeasterly direction, all of their fatigue forgotten. If they were to follow this orientation long enough, they would reach the Northern border portal gate. It was all Gwess could do to follow Roland's lead and not just storm ahead. The two smaller travelers were used to long treks and Roland was conditioned by hard work and martial practice. Karter usually didn't work hard, but his body weight was minuscule, so he had that going for him. Gwess could easily outdistance them with her longer stride and endurance but Roland was afraid she would alert the Orcs of her approach and they would just hide their trail again from her. 

If Gwess had it her way she would have tried to carry the other two but Roland knew her energy would not hold out. The three of them were traveling faster than Roland and Karter could be moving on their own; Gwess would assist them up and across terrain that would bog them down or force them to go around. Karter would hitch a ride on Gwess's shoulder when he could get away with it before Roland chased him off with a glance.

Heading due north towards the gate wall in pursuit of the Orc's was made easy by the birds, raccoon, deer, mice, a slinking possum, even a grumpy badger would fade into Roland's conscious like a ghost image pointing the way. At one point a mountain lion made it's presence know only to warn them they were encroaching on her territory.  
Running through the night had the three traveler's blood flowing hot through their veins. These were the children of the Fay, strength ran in them that was not know to the Humankind that had diverged from the magic Races before recorded history. Roland looked to be a sturdy-looking man in his prime. He knew himself to be around his fifteenth year. Roland was of a race known as the Hero. He would eventually grow several more feet if he was average for his heritage. 

Before Gwess could even smell the Orc raiding party, the animals warned they were close. “You will warn the Orcs of our approach,” Roland cautioned Gwess when he called a halt to their run. Gwess was primed to action running only on her reserves to keep going, but she had plenty of those. “Wait here,” Roland put his palms up to keep Gwess's attention when she tensed, “until we signal you to come in and get Mother out. If we storm in there, who knows what will happen. Karter and I will sneak in and secure Mother. Then you come in like a hurricane on them and save the day.” 

Gwess nodded her agreement to the plan. She had never worked in a group before, but she could see the advantages of it. Tearing her gaze from the direction of the Orcs, Gwess ambled over to where a small tree had been recently blown over by the wind. Gwess grabbed the log around the base of the foot and a half thick trunk near the root system that was partially sticking up in the air. Lifting it until she could break off the lower branches by dragging it across a boulder. Snapping off the log at a length that was just shy of half her height, Gwess then grabbed it with both hands near the broken end and hefted it to test the weight like a big-league slugger warming up before heading to the batter's box.  
The others took off, hoping their woodcraft skills of stealth and Karter's innate magic could keep them undetected. They approached a very small clearing with a not so small fire that revealed Mother and a tall orc who, unannounced to them, was named Vidorma. He was without his horse for he had used his steed to lure Gwess away and distract her so they could take Mother without Gwess interfering; orcs knew the capabilities of ogres and giants. Having seen Gwess with her dose of giant blood giving her even more size than any Ogre they had ever seen and knew they did not want to mess with her. 

Even though they were not expecting any pursuit, the five guardsmen had blended themselves into the undergrowth ringing the camp. Their leathery green and brown skin helping them to blend in as they maintained a watch into the forest. Orcs were simple creatures, some of the best of them was the simplest. A simple creature can be the most dangerous for they are good at having very little on their mind. If Roland and Karter had not been looking for sentries they would not have seen the orcs holding completely still in their concealment. The heavily conditioned soldiers' breathing was very shallow while their whole consciousness was on their vigil. 

Vidorma was pacing back and forth in front of where Terra was seated uncomfortably on a large rock. Roland knew some times the most basic plans where the best. He would just have Gwess storm in with a giant leap to where mother was, scoop her up and be away with only the probability that Gwess would have to bump the tall orc out of the way as she passed by. He was sure Gwess would be ok with the plan, especially with the 'bumping' of the orc part. She could easily make a run and jump into the middle of the clearing, he had seen her do it a number of times while playing games with the animals of the forest and at times with the more fierce and wild children from the local village.  
On the return trip back to where they had left Gwess, Karter stopped Roland, “What is that noise?” Karter asked he had much better hearing than Roland. There was a strange sound that seemed to be coming toward them. “It almost sounds like an awkward, broken gait of a horse.” 

Only a minute passed by and eight terrified orcs rode by, hanging on for their lives on the back of a Kelpie whose giant back had plenty of room for the distressed soldiers. The giant horse-like creature was more to be thought of as myth than seen even in the Fay lands. Kelpies were more numerous than unicorns but almost noticed as much as unicorns because they spent most of their time hiding out in deep lakes and loches. The Kelpie easily bound up the hill in a strange canter that let it wind through the trees to where the campfire was beckoning. The large hoof prints the kelpie left looked just like what the elves had described as the snowshoe looking prints that had gone to the southern gate.  
This new development changed Roland's plans. He lead Karter back towards the clearing. The two of them sneaked around where a fallen tree had caused a cascade effect like dominoes when it fell, taking several smaller trees with it. This gave them the chance to move up close enough to hear what the now dismounted orcs were discussing with Vidorma. 

“We delivered the human through the gate and made it back here with no problem.” a voice in a guttural language came from in front of a large, well-muscled orc; Roland could just barely make out what was being said through the thick accent and strange cadence the way the orcs spoke elvish. 

Vidorma seemed to be looking down at the well-built orc's feet. “We, in fact, had a successful mission as well. I even managed to dispose of that retched horse they make us Mighters go around on.” In Vidorm's clan, the strongest and gifted bloodlines were a cast known as the Mighty. “It made it easier to control the other's,” Vidorma swept a finger in a loop in the air indicating the orcs who were on watch, “from wanting to play with the horse before eating it. We did not have any problems with breaking any natural laws.” Vidorma finished.

The feet of the large orc seemed to speak again. “You and my barer shall escort me on the Kelpie with Terra to the gate.” 

Roland gave up on trying any plan. He knew he had to try something now, for the way that Kelpie could move was a match for even Gwess's speed and they would never catch back up to Terra. Roland turned to indicate to Karter his decision to act. The Elf was gone. Roland was not perturbed, knowing Karter would be where he was needed at the right time. 

Vidorma had in the meantime turned toward Terra. He spoke in a form of high elvish that Roland had never heard before, but his talents could still decipher for him. “My dear, that may shed some light on why you were not able to turn your wrath against us. For we broke no laws of nature since entering your domain of Corrain.” He finished with an almost courtly slight bow and a nod of his head toward Mother. 

She just harrumphed and turned her head away from him as she folded her arms across her chest.

All the orcs let out snickers, for they find others dissatisfaction ever so hilarious. Roland used this small distraction to start to make for Mother. 

A tree was snapped two-thirds of the way up and crashed down on two of the orcs after Gwess bowled into it with her shoulder in a flying leap. She landed right in the middle of the group with planted feet. She swung her tree club in perfect form that would make any professional golfer proud and hit Vidorma squarily in the middle of his body which swept him into the orc closest to him and the two were driven up over the tree line like someone was teeing off with a one wood. 

Gwess scooped up Mother. Gwess moved so fast that none of the orcs could react and she bounded out of the clearing and was gone into the night. All of the orcs looked around at each other trying to wrap their minds around what had just occurred.

What seemed to draw their attention back to the moment was Roland standing very uncomfortably in the middle of the group where he had started to try his mad dash for Terra. This was a good lesson on why planning out your actions more clearly was a good thing.

Everyone seemed to roar at once. All of the orcs drew weapons and moved toward Roland. He was not prone to freezing but there was simply nowhere to go. 

A swooshing sound descended in an arc of bright starry like glitter down the nearest tree. Karter flew feet first as if he was sliding through the air, into the orc nearest Roland and sent the leathery beast falling backwards! Karter had used the orcs armored head like a springboard, changing the direction of his momentum. As he passed a surprised orc, the elf grabbed both ends of a whip that was in the green monsters belt and swooped around the calves of the orc next in line. When the entwined pair tried to take their next steps, they pulled each other akimbo and both landed roughly on the ground. Roland used the pommel of one of his knives to connect just under the visor of an Orc's helmet just behind where its fangs would be protruding out of its black lips. The Orc's head snapped around from the impact of the powerful right hook and collapsed for he was instantly knocked out.

Roland was running for the tree's following Karter who had already started the escape. An ax sliced the shoulder of Roland's tunic as it spun by and a short spear sunk into a tree just as he dodged behind it. As the pair ran through the trees, Roland tried to keep his wide frame so that is was shielding Karter from any more hurled weapons. 

Suddenly both of the escapees were lifted off the ground and bound by dark magical tendrils that sprouted from the ground. The voice that had seemed to come from the large orc's feet earlier crackled a command in high elvish, “Enough!” Roland and Karter had no other option to comply as they were slowly rotated around in their magical shackles. 

The large orc was carrying at his chest a deformed orc who seemed to have no limbs in a sort of pack harness. The colorful blazed markings and dark scar patterns all over the face were indicative of a powerful Shaman, even though he was travel-sized. Shaman's bodies deteriorated away as they used more and more of the dark magic. The shaman had been with the orcs who had arrived on the Kelpie from a southerly direction. That would explain the powerful magic that had breached the portal there.

“Well, we may not have Terra, but I think we have an even bigger prize!” stated the Shaman as he was carried closer to the flailing, but helpless Roland and Karter. The shaman could see auras around the two bound prisoners. The shaman glared at Roland with fevered eyes that seemed to be burning like smoldering coals.

A bolt fired from a crossbow seemed to suddenly appear in the neck of the large Orc who was carrying the shaman. For another one of the many times that evening the Orcs were surprised. Two sets of spinning blades darted into the middle of the orcs landing a few hits before the Orcs even knew what was happening. 

There erupted the clash of steel on steel as two elves wearing wide-brimmed cavalier's hats, each with a colorful feather stuck in the hatband, squared off against the orcs. Both looked quite dapper in their crisp doublets as they expertly fenced against the Orcs heavy broad blades. Another Elf sauntered past Roland and Karter and fired a bolt that glowed with magical energy straight at the shaman that had the effect of neutralizing the magic caster. The elf turned and expertly snipped the bound pair lose with a few quick swipes of the tip of his rapier that seemed to have an odd glow to it.

“Well don't just stand their agape, there is the joy of swordplay to be had.” the elf told the freed pair and then threw back his head and laughed. One of the eight Orcs left lunged in at what he thought was a distracted, half-mad laughing lunatic. But the Elf was ready and used the springiness of his sword that was stuck tip first in the ground, and the lightness of his body to propel himself above the Orcs extremely powerful swing of a double-headed ax. Doing a layout he landed lightly on his feet and charged into the fray.  
Roland recovered the large orc's sword. He and Karter had backed to the edge of the fight and were trying to desperately defend themselves against a much stronger orc who had slipped by the elves. The initial element of surprise had lost its effect and now the much less brawny Elves, and one very exhausted Hero, were having the fight turn against them. The martial skills of the Orc elite guards were not as good as that of the elves but was close enough to make it a grand fight. The Orcs had the strength in numbers and of their bodies on their advantage.

The orcs had the other five Fay surrounded and were pressing their advantage. Karter was giving a good account of himself even though he was only half the size of the next smallest elf. He was darting in with his dagger and catching the orcs off their guard. But the fight would soon be over.

A thunderous war horn sounded that drowned out the clashing of weapons. It was followed by a war cry that was almost as powerful. A heavily muscled barbarian who dwarfed even the tallest orc charged straight into one of the unlucky orcs and bowled him over. The hulking mass of a person wielded what most would call a Dane ax that was taller than most people. He swung the ax so powerfully that it dug deep into one of the Orc's skull right through its steel helmet.

The other orcs suddenly lost the will to continue the fight. They cut the still comatose shaman loose from his barer and carried him away as they made a hasty retreat. The Barbarian started to pursue the cowards, but the crossbow-wielding elf stopped him by saying. “I think you should let them regroup so your victory is even the grander.” The great stamina of the elves had them still ready for a fight, but a small wound here and there was starting to wear at them. Karter and Roland were barely able to stand. 

The Barbarian spread out his huge arms wide as he faced the direction the orcs had fled. “I am of the Ghost Clan!” he roared. “Flee before me and my fighting prowess!” the Barbarian demanded to the already gone Orcs. What most humans would think of as boasting just seemed normal to anyone who was used to barbarians. “I am the Ghost tribe of the frozen waste and thunderous rolling waves!” He concluded as his powerful voice rolled out into the forest in pursuit of the orcs.

“Well that was fun.” said one of the Elves. He swept his hat off in a fluid deep bow to Roland and Karter as he introduced himself. “I am Cloros.”

“This is Ploros”, Cloros indicated the next bowing elf with a blue velvet-gloved hand. Then gestured to the other one with a sweep of his arm. “And last but not least, Artymess.” who made an even more showy bow. “And you seem to have been introduced to our other friend here.” Cloros nodded toward the Barbarian.

The three elves looked as if they had stepped right out of an Alexander Dumas novel. Apparently, literature was something that had made its way from the human realm across the barrier into the kingdoms of Corrain. The triplet's father had been a huge three musketeers fan. He had been a bit liberal with the names though. The three elves seemed to have taken to it and ran with it all the same.

“Terra?” Roland asked. His concern for Mother was at the forefront of his mind, even though he was about to collapse from running and fighting all night. Plus he had a few nasty scratches and bruises that he would feel for a long time. 

Cloros wiped his sword off on a rag and then waved it in the general direction of Moltorstraut, the capital of the middle kingdom. “We saw, I believe her name is Gwess?” he rhetorically asked no one in particular. “I've never had the honor of meeting her but know her by reputation. On our way to this lovely little get together we viewed the lovely lady escorting Terra to a safer venue; at quite the clip I might add.” 

Ploros had shared water, bread, and cheese with Karter and Roland. They both felt like they may live, at least they were able to stand up straight even if it was with the help of the trees they were leaning on. “How did you come upon us?” he asked their rescuers.

“We were investigating weird stories of the southern portal being breached as part of our duties as wardens of the middle kingdom.” Cloros explained. “We had tracked the Kelpie to mmother'Mothers house where we saw signs of a scuffle. Fed a lame horse. Came across a lamer orc who, Terra had so kindly blown out its knee cap with her skillet. The Orc spilled the whole story when our Barbarian friend over here picked him up by the front of his tunic so they could see eye to eye on the matter.” 

Ploros paused to catch a breath from all his talking. “Our friend here,” indicating the barbarian and then Ploros continued, “like all of us, hold Terra in a warm place of our hearts and was not at all happy with anyone who was unpleasant to her.” The Barbarians were from the toughest, coldest regions of the known Fay lands. They plied nearly frozen seas and even colder mountainous terrain. The lands that they came from were the toughest to live in, but the Barbarians were tougher. They were said to be a mix of the Hero races and the last descendants of the giants of old; the barbarian's size seemed to collaborate the giant connection. 

“The orc almost could not speak fast enough. He revealed their plan to kidnap Terra. That they were to meet up with a group that had escorted a shaman and a human of the wilds across the southern portal, he did not seem to know what the other group were doing on the other side of the portal in the Human forest.”

“To make a long story short, we made haste here and found that the party had already kicked off, and you know the rest.” Ploros summed up. “Our large barbarian friend here seemed to be the last one here, his speed just doesn't seem to be on par with the times.” Ploros jibbed at the Barbarian who he seemed to be friends with. 

“Tiny Elves!” Was all the Ghost clan responded.

“We must make our way to Moltorstraut, half a day away, to report all that we have encountered and see if our Lady friends are doing ok.” Ploros finished.

The Group finished eating and cleaning their weapons. They gave Roland and Karter some of the liquid straight from elven springs, which was said to be very refreshing. The party set off in the direction of the capital.

\----------

It was just after breakfast time when the Elves and Heroes came in site of the dusty streets of Moltorstraut at the bottom of a hill.

Two archers suddenly rose up from their concealment onto their knees and drew their bows back. In a flurry of skill and speed that defied belief, six arrows were in the air, heading dead on for each of the traveler's center mass.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that is in support of a bigger project.


End file.
